Rerun or Did you ever notice the weirdness?
by Jill2
Summary: Not quite sure if there is a summary. Cordy and Spike meet. Hints of B/A. rated R for language


FIC: Rerun – or did you ever notice the weirdness? (1/1)

Author: Jill

Disclaimer: let me check ... nope, still don't own them. Sigh! I'm not making any money off this. and Jane Espenson.

Rating: R for language 

Category: a bit serious, a bit funny, but nothing definite

Pairing: No real pairings – gee, this is a first, but hints of B/A 

Distribution: my site (http://www.never-ending-love.de), Land of Denial, if you have any of my stories, take it; anybody else tell me where it goes

Spoilers: Everything up to the season finales 3/6 is fair game

Timeline:  see Spoilers for this 

Summary: uhm … well, not quite sure if there is one

Feedback: oh yes, please – this goes without saying – pretty please?

Dedication: This is for Adia. It's not a serious story, but maybe you'll still like it.

Note: Not beta-ed. My friend read it, but she didn't make corrections. But she thought I should sent it. So here you are. 

What a great night. What a fucking, bleeding great night. 

There I am, a real bad ass vampire, sitting in some low life bar here in downtown L.A., feeling sorry for myself. Why I ended up here? Well, maybe you can tell me? I'm still not so clear on that. I mean, here I left Sunnyhell and that heartless bitch to find a fucking solution for my fucking problems, and what happens? I'm ending up with a bloody soul inside of me.

Did I ask for it? No. Did I go there and said, please, you wonderful demon, I want a favour? I want my soul. No way.

Oh, wait. Actually I did ask for it, bleeding idiot I am. That just shows it again. I'm the most sorry vampire on this entire planet. And I'm the one who pitied his grand-sire for having a soul. But he – at least – didn't ask for it. In fact he lost it because of her. I got it.

I down the rest of my drink, not feeling a lot of it, ordering another one anyway. There's laughter around me, a lot of it, men, women, having a good time. I used to have a good time, too. I was the king of good time. I was known for it. Hell, I was famous for it. Until she came. She who wouldn't have me without a soul, and now she won't have me either.

The second drink comes along, and I stare at it, then suddenly feeling nauseous, push it away, throw a bill on the counter and leave. I used to love bars, used to love the way the smoke was clinging to the air, slowly filling it, making it sometimes hard to see. Not tonight, though. Not tonight. Tonight not even getting stone drunk will help. I want to drown in self-pity. All I want is feeling sorry for myself. 

"Spike?"

Of course, bleeding idiot I am, not even that will happen tonight. Of all people to meet… I keep on walking, hoping she might think…

"Spike, is that you?"

Gee, are there others looking like me? Sure, Billy Idol once looked like me – at least from the back. But that's twenty years ago, and unlike me he's not that young anymore. Not that I am young, but –

"Spike. What are you doing in L.A.? Hey, why don't you wait? I've hear about your recent excursion to Africa. "

What? Did anyone send out a global mail, saying Spike got himself a bloody soul? Gee, if I'd still had that chip things would be a lot easier, and less guilty-y. 

"Stop. This is getting old."

"Alright, alright," I say finally, sighing deeply, before turning around, and – having my chin drop to the ground. "Holy Shit," I exclaim, actually backing away. 

She stops as well, sighs, too. "I get that a lot lately. Why do you think is that?"

"Could be because you're floating in the air, and … well, that glowing-act. Pretty scary," I say, trying to see what's happening right before my eyes. "What happened to you?"

She sighs again, more deeply this time, "I became a Higher Being."

Okay, so I realise I shouldn't have laughed. Her being a higher being and all, but I just couldn't help myself. So, five minutes later, I'm still sitting on the ground, trying to hold my belly, trying to think of something dramatic, something serious, but it just won't do. Every time I look at her, it starts again. "Y-you," I gasp, trying to get my unnecessary breath, "Oh, this is good. This is so good."

"Hey, I didn't ask for it," she says defensively. "It just went 'bang' and here I am. All float-y and glow-y. And what's your deal? Why did you get yourself a soul? Thought no sane vamp would do that out of his own free will."

"You're right on the money." I really have to get used to her deal. She's sitting beside me on the steps of an old building, only, she's not really sitting, she's floating – only cross-legged. This is even weirder than before. Maybe the soul wasn't the only thing the guy gave me.

"Huh?"

"It wasn't my  own free will. I asked to be … to become what I was before, and … well, to make a long story short, it was some kind of misunderstanding. And all that just because of her."

"Her?"

"Tiny little blond, strong fists?"

"Oh, that one," she nods understandingly, her hair shooting sparkles when she does it. It's actually pretty cute. Well, if you forget about all the weirdness, of course.

"Yeah," I reach into my pocket in search for a cigarette, then remember I've given it up. Smoking, that is. 

"Fucked up my life as well."

My head whirls around in surprise, "Are higher beings supposed to talk that way?," I wonder.

She shrugs, "I don't know. I'm new to the job. But who cares."

"Yeah," I agree, my fingers closing around my little flask of whisky. I pull it out, take a sip. "Sent me away. Told me I wasn't good enough without a soul."

"Never slowed her down when Angelus was around," she says, then reaches for the flask and sips, too. Pretty scaring thing looking at a god gulping down good old Scottish Whisky. Well, maybe not a god, but something close.

"Angelus," I spit on the ground, the name tasting like acid on my tongue. Or like Holy Water. Yeah, definite like Holy Water. "Never thought that name was manly."

She nods, sipping again, "Me neither. Angel, pah! Sounds like some model."

"So where is the big Poof these days?," I ask almost against my will. "Last time you were working for him."

"With him," she corrects me a little angrily. "I was working with him. But, anyways. He got all googly-eyed, and I thought … well, never mind. Then his son threw him into the sea."

Okay, I thought this night was weird, but this? "His … son? As in Angel's a daddy?"

"Yeah, he is," she snorts. "A daddy. For a while he was nothing else. Then the kid disappeared, went to some other dimension, came back – poof, all grown up. And in the end shut his dad into a coffin and down you go."

"Ah," I make, but don't understand a word she is saying.

"Yeah," she nods, this time taking a deeper sip. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. She's getting pretty worked up, the aura around her turning from bright to green and purple, and I really don't want to end up dust tonight. I mean, yeah, I'm pitiful and all, but death never sounded good for me. "So I go, jump right after him, pull him out. I mean, he won't actually drown, but I  think, hey, I'm his friend, he saved my ass, so now it's my turn. And with all the higher being stuff I can actually help. But you know what happened? He didn't even thank me properly. Just said thanks and I had an epiphany down there, and off he went. Pffffft – went to Sunnydale, to little blond bitch."

"He went to … Buffy?"

"Ohhhh," she grabs for her head, "Don't say that name. Not tonight, not after I drank," she shakes the flask, "the whole bottle."

"It's empty?"

"Uh-huh," she nods. "Well, where was I?"

"He went off-"

"Yeah, went off. Left me. And then the Powers get on my back, telling me I'm being degraded for intervening with destiny, because Angel was supposed to be down there, and I changed things by what I did. And they don't take these things friendly. So here I am, back on earth, back in L.A, with the visions of all things."

"The visions?"

"Yeah, visions of people in danger. People only the vampire with a soul can help."

Uh-oh. No way. "So, where is Angel?"

"As I said, went to see Buffy. That's why I was searching for you."

"For," I gulp, "me? No way, no bloody friggin' way. I'm not here to help people."

"Yes, you are." 

"No."

"Yes.  And just to save you time, you can stop arguing, because I never lost an argument so far."

"What about the big Poof?"

"What about him?"

Is she dense? "He's got a soul."

"No, he hasn't."

Okay, now I'm confused. "Huh?"

"Well, technically he has, I guess. I mean humans do have souls."

Now I know this is a nightmare. "A human," I choke.

"Yeah, a human. Oh, did I forget to tell you? Facing and fighting his son was his final test. When the kid drowned him, he became human. But because he's been a bit off lately, the Powers threw the whole redemption thing overboard, thought about letting him die. Then I came," she shakes her head. "And all he could think about was little Buffy, and that now he can give her the normal life she always wanted."

Suddenly feeling a little weak, I close my eyes, "And I'm what now? A fighter for the good cause? Someone bloody stake me already."

"You get over it. Angel did, too."

"One thing," I ground out, opening my eyes again and glaring at her, "If we're going to work together, stop mentioning his name."

"Works for me," she agrees. "I don't have a lot of fond memories about him either."

"So," I look at her again, "What happens now?"

She tilts her head, "There is this nice gloomy apartment I found for you. Interested?"

END 

Okay, I don't expect feedback for this, but if you want to give it, just sent it on. Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de

 I'm not sure what this really is, just know I had to write it, and when it was done, I thought, what the heck, now that it's written I'm sending it. *G*


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